One of my first memories is of the murder of 11 Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics. I was four years old, and I recall being confused that my family’s excitement over Mark Spitz’s gold medals changed to horror over “gorillas” who had taken the Israelis hostage.
They’re called terrorists now, and how their victims’ governments respond is the question probed by Steven Spielberg’s tense and sobering “Munich.”
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